


Your Time is Gonna Come

by CheekyWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bobby Singer Deals With Idjits, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Pre-Series, Protective Dean Winchester, Teenagers, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-18 17:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18254921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyWinchester/pseuds/CheekyWinchester
Summary: "Are you okay!?" Dean barked, glancing over at Sam as he gingerly inspected his leg. Sam swallowed nervously, putting pressure on the bite mark that was still sluggishly bleeding."Y-yeah Dean I'm fine." he stuttered. That earned him a sharp look."You wanna try that one more time without lying to my face Sammy?" Dean's tone was dangerous, his hands white from how hard he was gripping the wheel."It bit me." he whispered, half in shock.





	1. Nobody's Fault but Mine

A thirteen year old Sam was currently laying vertically across the motel room's stained couch. He twirled the remote in his hand as he halfheartedly watched 'Fox news.' The upside down newscasters on the screen quibbled on about thunderstorms moving toward the northern front.

He tapped his right foot against the wall above him, impatiently waiting for them to get to something exciting. Sam tilted his head in mild interest as he heard heavy footsteps walking up to the motel door. The door knob jiggled frantically before finally opening with a soft click. A dark figure appeared in the doorway and Sam shifted his position to see who it was.

"Good, you're still up." a deep voice said hoarsely. Dean stepped over the threshold carrying two soft drinks in a cup holder along with a bag of food. "Went out and got food since we ran out last night." he said while holding up the grease-stained bag.

Sam instantly sat up right on the couch. Dean threw over his sandwich, his nose scrunched up like he smelled something rotten.

"If you keep eating that vegetable crap all the time you're never gonna grow past five feet Sammy." Sam threw a mildly heated glare at his brother.

"If you keep eating that heart attack inducing crap all the time you're never going to live past thirty." he retorted.

Dean rolled his eyes before sitting next to Sam on the couch and grabbing his bacon cheese burger from the bag. The newscaster's voices on the TV broke through their bickering.

"Chloe Morgan, a young girl at the age of twenty, disappeared two days ago around midnight. After a prolonged search, her mutilated body was found in-" the female announcer was cut off as the channel suddenly changed to 'Dr. Sexy MD.'

"Doctor, you're brilliant you know that?" a nurse whispered to a dark haired man on screen as her hand slid down his chest tantalizingly slow.

"Yeah, now this is what I'm talking about!" Dean grinned slyly.

Sam's head whipped in Dean's direction, his face not sharing the amusement that was clearly placed on Dean's.

"I was watching that!" he growled indignantly. Dean brushed him off with a wave of his hand before taking a large bite of his sandwich.

"Oldest chooses the channel." he smirked, bacon poking out of his mouth as he chewed.

Sam scowled but bit his tongue so he wouldn't start a ridiculous fight over the news, especially when neither of them had had a good nights sleep in days. Their dad was doing a job over in Massachusetts and he was supposed to be back a week ago. Sam sighed and lowered his half eaten sandwich from his mouth.

"Any word from dad?" Sam asked in a low tone. Dean peeked over at him quietly, a wide smile spread across his face, though it didn't touch his eyes and Sam flinched.

"Yeah actually, he said he'd be home in a couple days. That witch was no problem for him. Don't worry Sammy." his tone was light but clipped short. Sam nodded slowly and adverted his eyes to the television. He knew when Dean lied to him, but calling him on it would start a fight.

"Seriously doctor?" a female with a low cut top said in an over dramatic voice. Said doctor faced her in an exaggerated turn. "She needs this nose surgery. If she doesn't get it..." he paused for effect. "She'll die!" Corny music played while the screen went black.

Sam shook his head in disbelief. How did this even get aired? He crumbled his sandwich wrapper into a ball and threw it into the garbage as he got up.

"I'm going to get ready for bed." he mumbled as he made his way to the bathroom. Dean grumbled a reply back while also crumbling his wrapper in a ball and aiming it at the trash can. The paper bounced off the rim and landed on the puke colored carpet near by. Dean glowered but didn't move to correct it.

The bathroom door closed with a small bang and the gush of water from the shower head drowned the noise of the television. Dean clicked off the next segment of 'Dr. Sexy MD' and pulled his disposable phone from his pant's pocket. He punched in a number he knew by heart and impatiently waited for them to pick up. After three rings a click was heard as the person took their phone off the hook.

"Hey boy, it's good to hear from you." a gruff male voice answered. Dean took in a deep breath before responding.

"Hey Bobby." his voice cracked. There was a moment of silence before the other spoke.

"I'm guessing this ain't a pleasure call. Tell me what happened." Dean ran a shaky hand through his short brown hair.

"It's dad. He's a week late and he's not picking up his phone." Dean paused to take in a quivering breath. "I just – I don't know what to do Bobby. Sam's starting to ask questions I can't answer and we're running out of money fast." An almost inaudible sigh sounded from the other line.

"Where's your dad's job?" Dean cleared his throat to lose his pathetic tone before answering.

"Massachusetts. He left us in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania."

"Alright I'll make a few calls and wire you guys some money but Dean-" Bobby paused and Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Just be careful. Something's going on up where you're at."

"What do you mean? Like what?" Dean whispered just as the spray to the shower died out.

"There's been an increase in dead bodies; all of their hearts ripped out..." Dean ran his hand over his face, trying to find his calm.

"So what are we thinking, werewolves?" A grunt of agreement was his answer.

"Like I said, just be careful. Ya idjit."

"Thanks Bobby, we will." Dean quickly shut his phone and stuffed it back into his pants before flicking the television on again.

"Dr. Sexy please, this woman only has a limited amount of time!" a nurse pleaded with the male doctor who turned to her with a hair flick. 

"What seems to be the problem?" his voice was low as he drew out each syllable. 

"Miss Wattson's nose needs immediate attention!"

The door to the bathroom swung open and Sam walked out wearing pajama pants and one of Dean's old Zeppelin t-shirts while purposefully drying his brown locks with a towel. He eyed Dean with an odd expression before shrugging and sitting on the bed farthest from the door.

"Hey Sam what do ya say me and you going on a little vacation for a while?" Sam's head snapped up in suspicion.

"Thought you said Dad was coming back soon." Dean licked his lips nervously.

"Yeah he is, but you know him; as soon as he gets back we're off to another hell-hole town. I thought we could take a few days off, go somewhere fun like an AC/DC concert. They actually have a show in Philly on the 6th." he said excitedly. Sam scrunched up his nose at the suggestion but nodded nonetheless.

"Yeah sure Dean. That would be great." Dean flicked off the ignored TV show and stood up.

"Go to bed Sam, we'll talk more about it tomorrow." Sam stood up to stretch briefly before throwing the wet towel into a hamper against the wall. He pulled back the generic covers and crawled beneath them, willingly closing his itchy eyes.

"Night Dean." he said mid-yawn. Dean locked the door to the motel then slowly got into his bed as well.

"Night Sammy." he murmured. He clicked off the lamp beside him, emerging them in darkness.

X~X~X~X

Sam stirred in his sleep, subconsciously kicking the heavy covers from his body. A sheen of sweat covered his skin in a failed attempt to cool him down. Sam rolled onto his side restlessly as his eyes twitched open in irritation; only to be met with solid blackness.

His vision blurred as he sat up in bed, and he blinked several times to clear it. When that didn't work he rubbed relentlessly at them with his palms. His throat ached as if he hadn't had water in months and he opened his mouth slowly, feeling the skin on his lips peel away from each other. He glanced dazedly at the clock on the bedside table and it read '1:06 A.M.' Sam licked his dry lips as he contemplated going to the vending machine around the corner for some water.

He felt incompetent for thinking he should wake Dean up to go with him. It was just around the building! What was going to happen? Sam thought about it for a moment before opening his mouth again to speak.

"Dean." he choked, his voice coming out hoarse and barely audible.

He winced as a burning pain appeared in his throat and looked over at Dean's sleeping form. His face was calm and relaxed, the worry lines that were visible in the day were smoothed out like they were never there, and he just looked so peaceful. Sam's lips thinned briefly before he grabbed some change off the nightstand and stood up. He looked back down at his brother, suddenly getting an idea.

He crossed the room to his duffle bag and pulled out his jacket and butterfly knife before tucking it into the pocket as he pulled the jacket on. Sam unlocked the bolt and twisted the gold painted handle until the door opened with a low groan.

He stepped outside, closing the door behind him, and was immediately greeted with fresh night air that whipped coolly around his body, soothing his burning flesh. He took in great pants of breath, feeling it scorch his dry throat.

He walked around the corner of the motel, finding the vending machine with little trouble. He inserted his money and pushed the water icon only for nothing to happen. He scowled and pushed it again before kicking the machine bitterly. A loud thud was heard and Sam almost cheered with joy as he bent down and pulled the water from the slot.

As he straightened back up he caught a glint of light reflecting on the vending machine and stared curiously at it. Illuminating on the machine was a strange image of a person crouched behind him. Sharp fangs gleamed in the reflection and in the middle of it's eyes were thin black slits. It's head tilted to the side menacingly, a glimmer of madness in it's eyes.

Sam spun around, his heart leaping into his throat as he came face to face with the creature in front of him. It's mouth opened, a feral growl passing it's lips as it lowered more in a crouch.

_Werewolf._

Sam had the knife out of his pocket when the thing lunged at him. He ducked and rolled, it's claws snagging his jacket sleeve and hitting the vending machine behind him _hard_. He was up and running before it fully recovered and almost made it back to the motel door when he felt teeth sink into his calf. 

He cried out as he fell; was slammed more like, into the cement of the sidewalk. Sam kicked out, catching it in the face as he struggled to get up, but the werewolf had his leg in a vice-grip and just sunk it's teeth in harder in retaliation. 

Sam screamed, sheer panic slamming hard into his heart. The creature let go of his leg and rose up above him to deliver the final blow.

The motel door was suddenly slammed open and his brother appeared with a .45 pistol, his expression like steel as he emptied a round into the werewolf's chest. 

It fell off of him, dead. And then Dean was there, pulling him up from under his shoulders.

"Get in the car!" he lightly shoved him towards the passenger seat. They had to leave, and quickly. People would have heard those shots and come looking, only to see a now dead human girl outside room 107. 

Dean shoved their duffles in the backseat before getting in behind the wheel and peeling out of the parking lot onto highway 15. 

"Are you okay!?" Dean barked, glancing over at Sam as he gingerly inspected his leg. 

Sam swallowed nervously, putting pressure on the bite mark that was still sluggishly bleeding. 

"Y-yeah Dean I'm fine." he stuttered. That earned him a sharp look.

"You wanna try that one more time without lying to my face Sammy?" Dean's tone was dangerous, his hands white from how hard he was gripping the wheel. 

"It bit me." he whispered, half in shock. 

The car abruptly screeched to a halt on the side of the road and Dean was suddenly yanking his car door open before delicately grabbing his torn leg to see it. His breath faltered at the site of it, his stomach filling with lead. 

Dean lurched to his feet, quickly going around to the trunk and pulling out the first aid before coming back to Sam. He opened the holy water flask and poured it steadily over his leg.

"Dean, you know that's not gonna do anything. It was a were-" 

"It doesn't hurt to try!" Dean snapped, cutting Sam off. He breathed out again shakily as he emptied the bottle of holy water over the bite.

"I'm sorry Sammy." he whispered, his tone betraying how scared he actually was. "Didn't mean to yell at ya." 

He gently poured peroxide over the wound next before carefully bandaging it up. 

"Lemme look at your hands next." he said quietly. 

Sam glanced down at them as he held them out. With how badly his leg was hurting, he forgot he scraped his hands when he fell. 

"Dean I-" he choked on a sob, everything slowly catching up to him. "Oh god-Dean." 

His face was suddenly pushed into Dean's chest as he grabbed Sam in a hug, gripping him tight. 

"It's ok Sammy. It's ok. You're gonna be ok." Sam could do nothing but shake and cry as the gravity of what happened really hit him. 

He got bit. By a  _werewolf_ for fucks sake. He was going to turn into one of those things. He was-

"I'm dead Dean. I'm already dead." 

Dean shook him lightly, pulling back to look at him. 

"Don't say that. You're  _fine_. You've gotta be." he choked on the last part. Sam didn't say anything else as Dean finished cleaning his hands.

Neither talked about the soft kiss Dean placed on the palm of his hand before closing the car door and getting in the driver's side.

They drove away just as distant sirens could be heard a few miles back. 


	2. Dazed and Confused

Dean was still white knuckling it three hours later when they made it to Ohio. He had tried calling his dad a handful of times, all along the lines of 'Sammy's hurt bad, call me back now,' but John never called back. 

He glanced over at Sam in the passenger seat, sleeping curled up against the window. Kid had nearly cried himself unconscious, but at least he was finally sleeping. He was barely holding it together himself, running on a few hours of sleep and pure panic and worry. 

His eyes were drawn to Sam's leg again for the umpteenth time, wishing he could have gotten there in time instead of a minute too late. He forced his gaze back to the road, swallowing hard.  _Sammy will be fine._  He picked up the phone again and dialed someone he knew would always pick up. The line only rang 5 times before Bobby answered, haven been clearly woken up.

"What is it ya idjit? It's 4 am." 

"Bobby." he started, his voice hoarse. "It's bad." he whispered.

"How bad?" he asked, sounding more awake. 

"Sammy was bitten." 

"What do you want to play 20 questions? By  _what_?"

"Werewolf." 

"Shit." 

"Yeah." 

"What the hell happened boy?" Bobby's voice sounded strained. 

"I woke up to something banging around outside, saw Sam wasn't in his bed, got my .45 and opened the door to see it on top of him. I shot it in the heart." he glanced over at Sam again, "Thank god I was packing silver bullets." 

"And you're sure it bit him?" he asked a little desperately. 

"Yeah Bobby. Poured holy water over it, don't know if it'll do any good." 

"Well we won't know if it did until next month, tonight was the last full moon son."  

"Shit." Dean ran a shaky hand over his mouth, trying to stay calm. "Well at least that gives us more time to try and find a cure." 

 Something unintelligible came from the other line. 

"What?" Dean asked gruffly, not sure if he really wanted to hear it.

"I said this is a werewolf bite boy. If there was a cure don't ya think we would've found it by now?" 

"This is  _Sam_ Bobby. We have to try damn it. I can't-" he cut himself off, his voice breaking. 

"Alright son, I hear ya. Did you give your daddy a call yet?"

"First thing I did. He hasn't gotten back with me yet." he said quietly, flipping the wind shield wipers on as it started to drizzle. 

"Course not." Bobby grumbled, "How far out are ya?" 

"About 14 hours, we just reached Ohio." 

"I'll start hitting the books, you idjits don't get into any more trouble on the way ya hear?" 

"Yes sir." Dean flipped the phone closed just as Sam started to stir. 

"How are you feeling kiddo?" he cast a worried glance over as Sam woke up with a pained groan. 

"I'm ok De." he slurred. 

"I told you to quit lying Sammy." his tone brokered no argument. 

"Feel like I got mauled by a rapid dog." came his smartass reply. 

Dean reached over to feel his forehead despite Sam's weak protests. His skin was clammy and burning to the touch. 

"You've got a fever." he murmured in disbelief, "Infection usually takes a day or two to set in. Not  _three_ hours." 

Sam shrugged halfheartedly, his bangs sticking to his forehead.

"I got bit by a werewolf, maybe because it's supernatural the infection is also supernatural." 

"Great." Dean muttered darkly. "Alright, drink some water and lay down. I'll stop at the next drugstore we come to and get you some antibiotics." 

Sam waded up his jacket next to Dean's leg before grabbing a water bottle from the backseat.

"Where are we going anyway?" he asked after he chugged half the bottle. 

"Bobby's. We're about half a day away."

"Is Dad coming? Did you tell him?' 

Dean ruffled his damp hair back as he lied down. 

"He'll be there." 

 

 Thirty minutes later Dean pulled into a 24 hour pharmacy. Sam waited in the car, still feeling feverish, as he checked on his leg again. He gingerly removed the bandages and winced at the smell.  _Definitely infected._

He perked up in his seat when he saw Dean round the car with a plastic bag. 

"How ya feeling kid?" he asked when he opened the door and crouched down to look at his leg.

"Not good." Sam pursed his lips as Dean cleaned his wound again. 

"Here take two of these." Dean said as he handed him a bottle of pills. 

"How did you get these without a prescription?" 

"You don't wanna know Sammy." Dean winked, re-wrapping Sam's leg.

"So Dean-" he gulped nervously, knowing this conversation wasn't going to go well. Dean looked up at him, expression already closing off at the tone. 

"I don't think I need to say this, not really but-"

"Then don't" Dean growled, breaking eye contact. 

"But if I turn,..." Sam insisted, causing Dean to groan in frustration. "You know what you gotta do right?" Dean sent him an icy look before standing, finished with his leg.

"You have to kill me Dean." he whispered, his brown eyes wide and glassy with the fever. 

"Shut up Sam." Dean snapped, slamming the car door shut.

He stomped around the front of the car before yanking the driver's side open and grumpily getting in. In sheer stubbornness, he turned the radio way up to drown out any conversation Sam wanted to continue. Feeling his own anger building, Sam turned the radio off completely, glaring at his big brother. 

"I'm serious Dean." 

"Yeah so am I.  _Quit_ talking Sammy." Dean glowered, but didn't make any move to turn the volume back up so Sam left it alone. 

He stared out the window as they pulled away from the pharmacy and watched as the rain steadily started to come down harder. He heard Dean grumble out curses from under his breath and just leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window and closed his eyes. 

Silently, he lamented the loss of a normal life he will never get the chance to live. He had plans to go to college, meet a nice girl, start a family; have an apple pie life. But here he was in the passenger seat of the impala in the middle of a storm, and he wasn't going to live past the month. He was going to die at thirteen years old. 

Sam clenched his eyes shut harder to try and stop the burning hot tears that were forming from sliding down his cheeks. He quietly sniffled into his shirt, but apparently not quietly enough from Dean's big brother instincts hearing.

"Come 'ere." Dean said gently, stretching his arm out for Sam. And Sam wordlessly slipped underneath his arm, rubbing his wet face against Dean's leather jacket. Dean for his part, didn't say anything about it. He reached over to turn the radio back on, volume muted, and Sam quickly fell asleep to Robert Plant singing about what is and what should never be. 

 

 "Sam." Dean shook his shoulder.

"Sammy." He could feel the heat coming off of him through his clothes.

"Sammy wake up!" Dean said in a hoarse voice, starting to panic. "Shit." he held Same close as he sped into a motel parking lot. 

Gently, he laid Sam down in the front seat, setting his head back on his jacket.

"Be right back buddy." he said before going inside and getting them a room. When he came back to the car Sam was trying to sit up awkwardly while looking around as if wondering where Dean was, but he looked completely out of it. 

Dean opened the driver's side and Sam jumped back, looking at him like he didn't recognize him. 

"Hey, whoa Sammy, it's ok. It's just me kiddo." Sam rubbed sweaty bangs out of his eyes, squinting up at him.

"De?" he rasped out, trying to sit up more and failing as he tipped over unsteadily. 

"whoa." Dean said as he grabbed him. "come on, we gotta get you into an ice bath." 

"No De, please." Sam whined and Dean felt his heart clench painfully hard in his chest. The childish nick-name, Sam in pain and saying please when Dean had a hard time saying 'no' to him almost made him want to cave and give Sam his way. 

"I'm sorry Sammy, but we have to. You're burning up." he soothed as he carefully picked him up out of the car. 

Dean half carried Sam into the room, stopping briefly to turn on the lights and set Sam down on the toilet seat as he filled up the bathtub with freezing cold water. 

"De'n please, I'll be ok." Sam tried to protest again. Dean had to look away to not be affected by the puppy dog eyes.

"Get in the bath by yourself before you lose your dignity and I strip you." Dean stated bluntly.

Dean heard a sigh as Sam resigned himself before soft distressed noises as he got his shirt stuck over his head, forcing Dean to help him strip down to his boxers anyway. 

Sam cried out as Dean helped lower him in the water, as if Dean didn't feel bad enough Sam looked at him like he had just betrayed him. 

"Stay right here Sammy, I'm going to go get some ice." He lightly rubbed his head before leaving the room. 

Sam contemplated getting out, but knew his fever  _was_  pretty high and Dean would be upset so he stayed in the tub. 

When Dean finally got back to the room with the ice, Sam was sitting right where he left him, shivering and miserable. He quickly made his way over to him and dumped the ice into the tub, causing Sam to jerk away and flail. 

"It ok Sammy. You're ok." Dean whispered as he held his shoulders, lightly pushing him down so the water touched his neck. 

"De." Sam trembled violently, "Please." he cried, reaching out to grip Dean's shirt and Dean felt his own eyes start to tear up because of how much pain Sam was in. He simply just held him tighter, lightly running his fingers through his hair to try and calm him. 

After 8 painfully long minutes, Dean helped Sam stand up and wrapped him in a towel, carefully drying him off. 

"Come on, let's get you to bed." After getting him dressed again, Sam gratefully slid under the covers of his bed and was out almost instantly. 

Dean dimmed the lights and sat across from Sam, worryingly running a hand across his face as he watched him sleep. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. Watching Sam suffering and in pain and not being able to do anything about it? That's not in him. He'd rather die than have to witness that again. And this was only the beginning. 


End file.
